The other day I had to make a mad run down to southern California and then back again the next day, and as I always do, stopped at the Coso Junction rest stop along highway 395 in the Owens Valley. The ravens were out in force as usual, croaking at each other and begging for goodies.
OK, so we always feed the ravens here. As a
matter of fact I packed along some peanut butter filled pretzels just
for them, which they heartily approved of. But being ravens, they can't
just hop up and grab the goodies--goodies must be approached in a
flighty, ninny-hammer manner, though with an element of style.
you can manage it. Otherwise, just run up and awkwardly grab the food
while practically lying on the ground in a retarded manner while your
buddies look on in saddened dismay at being even remotely associated with you.
today being what it is, we pranked the kid a bit. The hatch is
supposed to be a week away, but around noon we set this up and started
asking loudly and excitedly, "What's that noise? Do you hear peeping?!"
and got her to go over to the incubators, where she found this:
Well, she bought it for about half a tick, then started to laugh.
She's used to us messing with her by now and isn't fooled easily.